I took a deep breath before I walked into music holding the bag. Mr Scott sat on the stage and as I walked over he looked up at smiled at me. “Have you reconsidered my offer?”

“Are you going to ask me that whenever I come to class?”

“Well, have you?”

“No.” I replied.

“Then yes.”

I frowned and placed the bag beside him. “I ruined yours, and well. I can’t wear mine anyway so…”

His grin fell and he grabbed the bag. His hand delved inside and pulled the black fabric from the bag. I’d bought a L, fully intending on using it as a pajama top, but I’d always been afraid dad would see it and freak out.

“How’d you get this?” He choked unfolding the shirt. His fingers brushed over the place where I had ripped a hole in his. “They only made 100 of them.”

I shrugged and tried to seem blaise, but I knew I was failing. “Same way you did. I ordered it when they released them.” I was about to lose my Messoda shirt, but I would regain my self restraint. That made it a barter I was willing to make.

“You like Messoda?” He smiled and held the shirt between his hands.

“You could say that. Look I’m real sorry about your shirt. Luckily we seem to enjoy the same band, so debt repaid.”

Mr Scott put the shirt back in the bag and held it out to me. “No. I’m not taking your shirt.”

“You have to.”

“Well I can’t. Besides, I’m in a band. Ripped is cool and shit, you probably did me a favor.” He grinned and shook the bag. “The bell is about to go and all the kids are going to pile in here, and they’ll wonder why you’re giving me a bag. They’ll think you have a crush. Then you’ll be the new girl with the crush on the music teacher.”

“You say that like the entire class isn’t already jonesing for you.” I mused.

Mr Scott raised an eyebrow, but none the less continued to hold the bag up. Greta walked in and looked between the two of us. It was obvious she was confused, so rather than have her ask then and there I yanked the bag from his hands and turned to walk away.

“What the hell was that all about?” She asked as we walked to our seats.

“I ripped his shirt yesterday after school. I was trying to replace it.” I replied, unaware how bad it sounded until the words left my mouth. Greta gasped and grabbed onto my arm. She was too shocked to breathe, and if it wasn’t mortifying, I would have almost found her reaction amusing.

“Not like that.” I replied. “I was in the music shop after school. We bumped into each other. My stupid bag decided to fight him, his shirt ripped.”

She relaxed a little and pulled her music theory book from her bag. “Why replace it though? It’s just a shirt.”

“That’s complete blasphemy.” I muttered reaching into my own bag. I pulled my book and placed it down on the desk. “The shirt I ripped, they only made 100 of, and they haven’t made anymore. It’s like a piece of merch that only the first fans ever got to have. It’s priceless to those who love the band.”

“Oh.” She replied. “But how could you replace something that rare?”

“I have one too.” I replied like it was nothing, because it was nothing. Just because we liked the same band, just because we had ended up in the same music store, just because I could feel him watching me as I spoke, it didn’t mean this was fate. It didn’t mean I wanted to be in his band.

“Whoa, well that’s kind of cool.” She replied.

“I guess.”

“You don’t like Mr Scott do you?” She asked softly. “He’s like the most laid back teacher ever, but I’m totally getting the standoffish vibe from you.”

I shook my head. “I barely know him.” I replied honestly.

Greta didn’t say anything else and as soon as the bell rung the class filled with students. Before he stood up Mr Scott looked at me and gave me a brief half smile.

“Alright. Today we’re implementing last week’s song writing tips. Partner up and we will spend the first half of the class formulating lyrics.” He stopped and looked at me. “I know you weren’t here last week. But you’ll be fine.”

I nodded and looked at Greta who was grinning at me. The class erupted into noise, Greta pulled a notebook from her bag and placed it down on her desk. “You look worried.” She murmured.

“I didn’t realize this class would be so interactive.” I whispered. “I guess I expected a lot of theory.”

“Mr Scott believes in learning through doing. Don’t get me wrong, we do the other stuff, but he always makes it fun.”

Fun. I was beginning to regret my deceit. I didn’t want fun, I didn’t deserve fun. I just wanted a mindless retreat from the regiment my life had become. “Maybe I should visit the office. Explain that there was a mistake go back to Advanced Math.”

Greta frowned and placed her hand over mine. “Why?”

“This was so selfish and now I’m in over my head. I can’t write lyrics, I can’t play music. I have to go.” deep down I knew I could do both of those things, but my fear was holding me back.

I went to stand but Greta pulled at my hand. “How is being who you really are inside selfish?”

“You don’t understand. He sacrificed so much to raise me Greta.” My birth was the very reason he had put his own medicine dreams aside.

“Oh I understand alright. Don’t go. Please.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re the first person in this stupid school who befriended me without a second thought.” She exclaimed. “And because I heard you sing the other day. Talent like that shouldn’t be left to go stagnant.”

I frowned. “But I lied to my father. I deceived the school. I did something wrong.”

“and right now, only you and I know that. There is only a few months left of school. Enjoy them while you can.”

The idealistic part of my heart and mind decided to take heed in her words. The moment school was over the real hard part was going to begin. A harmless music class wasn’t going to derail my father’s ultimate plans for me.

I smiled and pulled a notebook and pen from my own bag. Greta decided we should see what the other could come up with in five minutes. So she set the stopwatch on her phone and we wrote. The words flowed from my fingertips like a rush of water off the top of a waterfall. I was caught up in a world in between reality and make believe, and for a short time it gave me hope, even if the lyrics I was formulating were sad.

Sick of pretending.

To be someone other than me

Sick of lying

Just to make you happy

Sick of acting

But I’ll keep up the charade,

Because you need me to make the grade.

Don’t you see me, I’m standing right here

I’m Broken inside But I keep smiling like I have nothing to fear

Truth is, everyday when I’m alone I cry

Sick of being hollow

Sick of being hollow.

Sick of crying

This heart can’t take all the hurt

Sick of listening

Just because you say it doesn’t mean it’ll work

Sick of dreaming

Because I have to wake up

And feel all the pain inside begin to erupt

Don’t you see me, I’m standing right here

I’m Broken inside But I keep smiling like I have nothing to fear

Truth is, everyday when I’m alone I cry

Sick of being hollow

Sick of being hollow.

Let me go, watch me soar

There is a light in me, you’ve never seen before

I can fly, I can be,

Everything that’s burns inside of me

Don’t you see me, I’m standing right here

Don’t need to be broken inside, don’t need to have anything to fear

Truth is, everyday when I’m alone I cry

Sick of being hollow,

Sick of being hollow.

“Time!” Greta sighed and tapped her phone. “I had a serious case of writer’s block. How’d you go.”

She pointed at my book and reluctantly I picked it up handing it to her as I let out a large sigh. She was about to hand me hers, but once she began to read she shook her head. and placed her book down “This is really good.”

“It’s nothing.” I mumbled. But it didn’t feel like nothing, it felt like a weight even if it was small, had been lifted from my shoulders.

Then, as if by some kind of cruel fate Mr Scott shadowed over Greta and looked down at my notebook. I watched them read over the lyrics and I hoped that the classroom would open up and swallow me whole. It had been a personal song, a vent… One I probably shouldn’t have written.

“You wrote this Addie?” Mr Scott exclaimed. There was a hint of surprise in his voice, and the curious part of me wanted to ask why that was. But I thought better of it and just nodded.

“yeah.” I mumbled. “It’s nothing really.”

“I’ll have to disagree with you there, It’s good.” He picked up the notebook and glanced over the lyrics before placing it back on the desk in front of Greta.

“Thanks.” I managed to splutter.

“I could help you put music to it.” he continued, but all I wanted was for the ground to open me up and swallow me whole. His suggestion I join his band was written in between the lines of what he had said. I knew it and he knew it. I gulped and looked at a confused greta. She looked between Mr Scott and I and shook her head. I grabbed the book back and closed it.

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

I looked down at the robot on my desk and waited for him to walk away. Greta leaned across and grabbed my arm. “What the hell was that about?”

“Nothing.” I replied as innocently as I could.

“Right.” She said, her tone dripped with disbelief and I knew she wanted to ask more, but she didn’t.

“Yeah.”

“You should do it. Let him put music to your lyrics. Why wouldn’t you, you love music. He loves music. You can make sweet musical babies together.” She teased, and although she was right, at least about music I couldn’t do it.

“Ew.” I replied. “He’s a teacher and he was asking to put music to my song, not marry him.”

“Ew? The guy is singularly the most attractive guy in the place, both based on looks and personality alone. But you’re right, that’s not the point. The point is you’re amazing, and he knows it.”

“I just can’t do it okay? I’m pushing my luck as it is.”

The rest of the class passed without trouble and when the bell rung out I went to leave, this time rather than taking a million years I tried to exit with the first rush of students. “Addie.” Mr Scott called as I made my way to the door. I could have pretended not to hear him, I could have just left the room and walked home. I could have, but I didn’t. I looked back at him and stopped moving. Once the room was empty he pointed to a spare chair by the stage

I walked across the classroom and sat down. “Yes?”

“That song. Who’s it about?” He questioned with a knowing look.

“No one.”

“Bullshit Addie, I’m not stupid.” hearing a teacher curse in the classroom caught me off guard, I felt my mouth fall open in shock, I composed myself quickly though and shrugged.

“It’s more about me than it is about anyone else.” I replied monotonously. “So can I go now?”

“I’m going to suggest something, and if I’m right, just nod okay?” He smirked before pushing himself off the stage. I just clenched my jaw and shrugged again. He walked over to the desk beside me at sat down.

“Your parents don’t think music is a suitable career choice. You lied to get into my class and you feel pressure to be what they want you be.”

I looked up, suddenly not scared to face his intense stare. He had me down, just from a few song lyrics. I nodded.

“Just my dad.” I managed to say.

“Your mom is okay with music.”

I shook my head. “My mom isn’t okay with anything. She died when I was little. My father was studying to be a doctor until she fell pregnant with me. He switched to being a vet to bring income in faster. He was about to go back to study just before she died. I owe it to him to become a doctor.”

“No you don’t.” Mr Scott replied without missing a beat. He smiled at me, and for a minute it soothed me. Until the truth and depth of my deception shone through.

“I vandalized my own admission form to this goddamned school so I could get into this class. I’m banned from music, I can’t even listen to it at home. Believe me, I do.”

Mr Scott looked down and sighed deeply. “I’ll pretend I don’t know about how you got in to my class, if you do me a favour.”

“I can’t join your band.” I replied without letting him ask the question. If saying no meant Dad was going to find out, then so be it.

“I know. Just perform with us. Once.” He offered me a chance to taste the apple, and like the curious person I was I contemplated it.

“Why?” I replied.

“Because I know what it’s like. You’re looking at the guy who was supposed to be a lawyer. You’re looking at the guy who dreamed of music, but in my family dreams aren’t important, following in the footsteps of those before you is.”

He knew, he felt it too. My heart opened a little more as he spoke and I found myself hypnotized by his words and experience.

“You see, for people like us. You and me. Music isn’t just our passion, it’s our vent. You know what happens to people who are forced to live out the dreams of others. The pressure that causes, it’ll eat you alive. I have a rehearsal in an hour. Come. Please.”

I wanted to say yes, my heart raced at the possibility. I couldn’t make the words escape my lips, as much as I ached for them too. Instead I looked at him, let my eyes connect with his. They shone bright, like the sun dancing on a green ocean; waiting expectantly for an answer.

I nodded, my body went against my mind and followed my heart. Mr Scott smiled and grabbed a pen. He scribbled something down and slid the paper across to me. “We practice here. I hope you’ll come.”

I picked the piece of paper up and brushed my fingers across the address. “I don’t have a car.” I mumbled. “And I don’t know my way around.”

“I can give you a ride.” He said. I looked up and he smiled, then bit his lip. “In my car.”

“Uh, well my dad is expecting me home. He’ll probably lose it if I’m late.”

He frowned and shrugged. “Tell him your maths teacher wants to give you some extra work.”

I smiled, until I realized what he was suggesting. My teacher of two days was asking me to lie. My mouth fell open. “You’re suggesting I lie?” I mumbled.

“Aren’t you lying already?” He replied.

“Yes, but that’s different.” I protested, even though it wasn’t different. It was exactly the same, yet somehow coming from my teacher it sounded worse.

“Is it?” He grinned and stood up. “I’m leaving in ten minutes. I’m not going to force you to come to my rehearsal Addie, but I really hope you decide to.”

“Okay.” I said standing up. I put my bag on my shoulder and left the music room.

I couldn’t go, I was dreaming. I walked to the bus stop and waited. Lying to dad about taking music was bad enough, I couldn’t make it worse. The bus pulled up a few moments later. The door opened and as the kids piled on I found myself stuck to the ground like extra strength glue was beneath me. Gigi looked at me and smiled. “You comin love?”

I shook my head, and watched as the doors closed in front of me. I looked toward the faculty car park. Mr Scott was walking across toward his car, as if by fate. I pulled my phone from my pocket and send a text full of lies to my father.

I’ve got some extra credit math work already. I’ll be late home. Love you - Addie.